He must become greater; I must become less.
— John 3:30, NIV
For most of my school years, one item appeared on the supply list with almost sacred regularity—a pencil.
But not just any pencil. A Number 2 pencil.
Elementary school, junior high, high school—it was always there. Somehow that little yellow stick could do just about anything. With it I could work a math problem, write an essay, take a test, sketch a race car or a dragon, scribble a note to a girl, or even write something on a desk when I knew perfectly well I wasn’t supposed to.
And on the other end was that little pink eraser. Turn the pencil around—180 degrees—and mistakes could disappear. Stray marks, misspellings, bad math, wrong answers—a multitude of pencil sins could be erased and tried again.
That Number 2 pencil was quite a tool. Maybe there’s something worth noticing about that number—2.
Our culture has long encouraged us to be Number 1. Back in the 1970s, Looking Out for Number One became a huge bestseller. The title alone captured something that remains very much alive today—promote yourself, protect yourself, build your platform, discover “your truth,” gather followers, get the likes, make a name, go viral.
Be noticed. Be first. Be… Number 1.
John the Baptist had every opportunity to think that way. Crowds were coming to hear him. People were being baptized. His influence was growing. Then Jesus arrived, and some of John’s followers became concerned that everyone seemed to be going to Him instead.
John’s response was radical: “He must become greater; I must become less.”
John understood something I easily forget. There already is a Number 1—and it isn’t me. For John, Number 1 was Jesus, and for me, it must be Jesus too. Maybe humility is learning to be content in the second chair. Not insignificant. Not unnecessary. Just rightly ordered.
Jesus first. Me second.
Scripture says, “God opposes the proud but shows favor to the humble” (James 4:6, NIV).
Pride keeps reaching for the pencil, wanting to write our own story, make our own name, and receive the credit. But humility places the pencil back into God’s hand and says, “You lead. You write. You increase.”
And when we get it wrong—and we will—grace invites us to turn around. To repent and let Him erase what needs to be erased and begin again.
Being Number 2 is more than stepping aside. It is trusting that Jesus knows better than I do, sees what I cannot see, and can do with my life far more than I ever could on my own.
There is a lot of freedom in being Number 2. I don’t have to be the center. I don’t have to get the applause. I don’t have to make sure everyone notices what I have done. I simply need to remember who is Number 1.
Jesus must become greater, I must become less. Jesus, teach me to be content—even grateful to be…
Number 2.



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